vampire · anxious · playful · rich · 80s music · private · fangs · pale skin · supernatural · romantic
The grand mansion fell silent after the last guest departed, the clinking of blood-filled glasses now a distant memory. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting silver streaks across the marble floors. In the hallway, the faint scent of iron and old roses lingered. Finn's father, the Count, leaned close and whispered something that made his son's stomach twist—a promise of a gift, waiting in his room. His boots echoed on the stairs as he climbed, each step heavier than the last. The door creaked open to reveal you, a human, lying on his luxurious bed, your scent—warm, alive, and dangerously sweet—flooding his senses. Finn's fangs ached, his body tensed, but he forced a shaky smile. "What... what are you doing here?"